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The Messenger
Excerpt from The Messenger: Vance could still sense Jake's presence in the apartment; he could still smell his cologne. His imprint indelibly marked every room in this place. He really liked living in this building and dealing with these memories was something he was going to have to work out. Tonight it just seemed to be hitting him harder than it had over the last several weeks. He missed his ex-lover a lot; maybe because, finally, he realized it was over. Jake wasn't coming back. He'd never been as in love with anyone as he had been with Jake. He looked at the phone on the other side of the room. He'd been unable to help himself and had tried to call Jake at his apartment last week, but he found no one at home and he'd assumed he'd moved. Or wanted to ignore his calls. The problem was that he didn't have a new number for Jake in California. Trying Jake's cell phone only got him voice mail. He'd even tried calling directory assistance and there were several listings for a Jake Hollinger, but none of them were his Jake. It was probably too soon. He lifted the glass of brandy he'd poured earlier and took a long swallow. Then he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. He could work on the project he'd brought home with him, but that just didn't call to him. He needed to form a plan by Monday, but he just couldn't shake up the enthusiasm to do what needed doing. He really did need to pull himself out of this fugue he found himself in. Dammit, but he wanted to be whole again. He visualized Jake standing in front of him, that lopsided smile on his beautiful lips. He held out a hand to Vance. "Come on, lazybones, get up. You'll have plenty of time to sleep when your soul's gone and left town." A slow, jazzy number playing on the CD ?? maybe Kenny G. Jake liked Kenny; he liked the sexy moan that undulated in the music. Slow like two men who enjoyed fucking, was how Jake had put it. A husky, seductive voice. Vance couldn't help it. The relief with Glenn was short-lived at best, like imitation chocolate when he'd gorged on German dark not so long ago. Vance unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, needing more relief. He wanted Jake to be here with him. He'd pull Vance into his arms and they'd dance around the room, lights low, candles lit, the warmth of the gas-lit fire in the fireplace. The ache he felt at Jake's loss throbbed through him. They'd circle the room, shedding clothes as they went, slow and easy. Jake had wonderful hands that would grip his ass just right, branding him with his hot touch. A finger at his asshole, pushing into him, Jake's other hand pressing Vance to his hard, sculpted body. He remembered the sensation as his cock brushed against Jake's, sliding together and driving them higher and higher. It was slow and easy there in the living room. Until they moved to the thick rug in front of the fireplace. The fragrant, earthy oil, the butt plug Jake had bought for Vance. And the seductive presence of Jake himself. "Something new for my best boy," ...
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Stories on this Site are the original works of Adrianna Dane Copyright 2005-2008 Adrianna Dane |
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